The four aging fishermen who sat around the pier, just north of the Shoreway, didn't seem to mind -- not even the one called King Fish. The anglers, each in their 70s, knew the white bass would live to bite another day.

The men were far more interested in reflecting and talking about Robert Godwin Sr., a devoted fisherman, whose funeral was Saturday. The men had made no plans to attend the church memorial service, but said they intended to pay their respect to a murdered fishing colleague in a different way. They said they would always remember Godwin, 74, standing on Lake Erie with a fishing rod in his hand, quietly celebrating whenever he made a good catch.

The retired seniors, who now devote much of their leisure time to fishing, if not telling fish tales, said Godwin was a charter member of their unofficial Lake Erie fraternity. They recalled him as an easygoing man, but a bit more reserved than most of his fellows. For decades, Godwin laughed at their occasionally exaggerated fish stories, but rarely regaled his contemporaries with one of his own.

Mostly, he was just a nice guy.

"Mr. Bob gave me his minnows last time I saw him. That was a couple weeks ago. He was done fishing for the day and didn't need them," said Juan Nelson, 70, who wore an oxygen pack over his shoulder.

"Shine's (Bait & Tackle) charges $4.65 for two dozen minnows. That's highway robbery, so when you're done, you pass them on to somebody who ain't gonna cut bait and run," Nelson said with a chuckle, before turning deadly serious.

"When I saw that Facebook video, it killed me. I'm not going to lie. I packed up (a gun) and started looking. I was hoping to run into him (Steve Stephens) somewhere in the city. I'm not sure what would have happened. But, I'll tell you what. That (expletive) wouldn't have happened down here," Nelson said, emotionally motioning his arm around the marina.

An aging Cleveland fisherman on oxygen wasn't the only person moved to contemplate violence after the murder of Godwin was posted on Facebook Easter Sunday. Before Stephens took his own life Tuesday outside of Erie, Pennsylvania, social media was saturated with calls for violence against Stephens and against those who insisted on reposting the contemptible video.

That angry backdrop stands in sharp contrast to the outpouring of compassion, love and occasional humor at Godwin's funeral at the River of Life Ministries in Euclid. Several speakers recalled Godwin's lifelong devotion to hard work, family and church.

It was his family's emotional sentiments, however, that revealed Godwin's essence. His children and grandchildren somehow found the strength to speak in unison about love and forgiveness. They advanced a genuine message of hope and community reunification that is still stunning to hear from a family that suffered such a cruel and senseless tragedy days ago.

It's a remarkable reaction, perhaps something to learn from and build on. I don't pretend to understand the emotional metrics. But perhaps love does begat love. Perhaps tough love tempered with compassion is our only hope.

In death, it has become abundantly clear that Godwin was enjoying the fruits of a life well lived. Loving family, longtime friends and local fishermen heartily embraced him. He appears to have been at peace with himself. We should all be so lucky.